Author: Angela Rose, Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2016 12:46 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Celeste had lost herself and at the call of her name she had begun to go after Sebastian. It wasn’t long though before a lulling tree of sleepy powder began to curl around the woman. A soft breeze carrying a lullaby. “Go to sleep, my dear child.” It was a familiar voice that Bash would recognize as the redhead came around the corner. There was a scared clergy member with her.

“I don’t need to ask what happened here. The walls, the ground, the winds even carry the scent. They scream for you.” The red head offered a sigh as she slowly watched the vaewolf transform back into her regular self. “The entity is intoxicating. I doubt she would have lost control without the push of the twisted mind it often brings.” She tapped her chin and stared at Sebastian and then over to Mazerine. “Hello.” Angela was so graceful. Even on a tragic night like this one, she was dressed way beyond her best.

Her red tresses seemed eerie in the night sky, like blood running down her shoulders. “I need to see all of you in my clinic. Because of this little one, I am not going to be bringing you to my temple.” She waved over towards Celeste. “I can’t have someone who’s lost themselves to rage near my children. We’ll simply take up in a tavern and I’ll check all of you out.”

The tree left and Celeste began to fall. She was swiftly caught by Angela who motioned for the clergy to go back to the tavern and perform the tasks she was given before hand. “I had a curious little thing happen. My clergy member came running and screaming that a monster was attacking Adeluna. When prompted for the situation… he described you and a being that has most likely been infected or… something else by the entity that I’ve come to know in you.” She came over and booped Sebastian on the nose. “I’ve ordered the streets and buildings tp be repaired by magic. For now, I want to make sure everyone is fine. Can you get her clothes?” She asked of Mazerine. 

“You can introduce me later Sebastian.” She gave a smile.

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2016 5:13 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Sebastian covered his ears and raked at his temples as Ozziah issued his beastly howl. Some other property that tinged the creature's cry affected him on some deeper level, while Mazerine and Celeste seemed to be unphased. Vision blurred, and mind flooded with a relentless, sporadic static, Sebastian raised his spear defensively as he backed away, using its reach to his advantage.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Ozziah," Sebastian grunted. Reasoning, he realized by observing he creature's behavior, was not out of the question at this point. In fact, his friend of a bygone time and place seemed to possess perfect control over the twisted, perverted form…for it constantly seemed to change as tensions escalated.

Narrowly parrying a sweep of Ozziah's transformed arm, Sebastian pushed back with equal ferocity. "Let's talk! You saw what happened to the grove. You also seemed to be touched by tainted by the realm connected to it as I am."

"There is nothing to say. Not when you and I only exist only by that…horrid thing's will. I will use its own might to end this nightmare."

There was that concept again, spoken this time directly into his mind so the elves could not hear. Sebastian had initially attributed it to some form of psychotic nihilism that his old friend suffered from. Now, though, he really began to wonder…

Celeste attacked Ozziah with a bloodthirsty fervor that rivaled the zeal which was directed at Sebastian. She chastised him for his presumptions as her assault became increasingly erratic. She had issued vague warning to turn and run, before her mental voice grew quiet. Ozziah shrieked in pain as the smaller werebeast's claws and fangs went well past his defenses, finding their marks. Giving up on Sebastian for now it seemed, Oz limped backwards defensively, snapping and slashing at the greater threat before him, leaving a trail of crimson.

"Stop! Celeste….!"

As crazed and dangerous as Ozziah had become, he did not wish death upon him. He still had hope to speak with him in the future. He needed to know more…

Desperately reaching out to Celeste mentally, Sebastian instinctively moved back to Mazerine, so as to shield her from the possible onslaught to come.

"Get a hold of yourself!"

Author: Celeste, Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2016 7:33 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Celeste stopped dead in her attack. Like at that moment any movement could have been lethal to either party. Her red eyes stared deep into his eyes. “A lot more than you give me credit for. Before I knew blood and pain, I knew loneliness. I knew being alone even in a tribe meant to be my own. You are still young, given time you can ponder your own existence more than you have. Sometimes things happen for a reason even if it takes two thousand years to come to fruition.”

As she replied she dodged the small attacks he was doing. “Do not play with me.” She let out a howl as she jumped towards the disfigured being. She was full teeth and claws as she went after the other wolf. 

In her mind, she kept it clear or rather she tried. Images of her, Nemesis, and Serafina would bolt through everyone’s heads as if her mind was on the brink of a rampage. The way they all slept together, ate together, hunted together. They were a family if nothing else but they were brutal. They were killers. 

Around her began to form spectral sword ready to pierce Ozziah as they moved. She was slowly being consumed by the very rage that she had been so great at hiding. With Nemesis not in sight, it appeared her rage would go unsated. Pain shot through her mind, her linked mind. She threw out her furred claws into the ground, it crumbled with such ease. The rumble from her strength as she went to tear into Ozziah. “If I were you, I would be running.” It wasn’t clear who it was directed to as she began to fling all sorts of her magic, strength, and teeth towards the other wolf. It was such a rage that fear was shaking from her as well because she knew she wouldn’t stop.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2016 11:50 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

For a brief moment, Mazerine felt victorious as Ozziah let loose a howl that could only be described as unnatural, the flames from her spell finding their target.  From her knees, she watched, momentarily feeling rather impressed with herself.  Shortly thereafter, however, her expression changed to one of utter disbelief as the embers were smothered by whatever darkness it was that surrounded him.  She let the flames from her palms die away as she realized that they had not been accomplishing what she wished.  Disdainfully defeated, she cast her gaze down to the seared flesh of her palms, the charred scent drifting up into her nostrils.  The pain was immense, but not so much as the pang of fear she felt as Ozziah looked to her - though the fear subsided as he turned his attention elsewhere.  


She found it rather odd when Celeste’s words shifted from spoken to telepathic, bringing the elf to be grateful that she had taken the time to learn the methods that it took to be able to communicate nonverbally.  Her eyes widened as the lycan bean to change furthermore, his appearance much different than before and alarmingly frightening.  She watched the armed men of the city scatter after his first attack, finally deciding to listen to Sebastian.  She turned her attention away from the militia, instead paying mind to the scene unfolding between Ozziah and Celeste and then Sebastian, her eyes widening in the sheer terror of the event.

Author: Ozziah, Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2016 6:21 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Ozziah issued an unnatural, piercing cry, neither human nor wolven when the conjured flames licked at his flesh. The subtle shadows that enveloped his form and caused his pelt to constantly shift as though it were touched by erratic winds quickened. Smothering the embers within the singed hairs, it then stirred as new fur grew back in its place. What could only be described as a low, beastly chuckle came from the creature as it turned its attentions to the source of the attack - the taller of the two elven women…panic-stricken, now nursing a burned hand. He snorted with dismissal before turning his attentions to the smaller elf that addressed him.

What started as words aloud transferred to a mental dialogue shared to all as the deceptively young-looking thing underwent a transformation of her own. She leapt into the air to lunge at Ozziah, which he sidestepped while rapidly undergoing a second shifting, even more disturbing than the first. The sounds of bones and sinews crackling accompanied it even louder and more sickeningly than before as the creature's spine and form shifted, allowing it to become bipedal as it had been while still a man. The city militia had cleared way after Ozziah's initial assault, following Sebastian's warning; now, many of them fled in pure terror. The antlered lycan extended its right arm, and it shook and writhed before a malformed limb of sharp bone exploded from the flesh violently…a weapon most crude and foul.

Now resembling some sort of twisted wendigo-like thing moreso than a werewolf, Ozziah stalked around the trio. The form he took had a lumbering and hunched posture, but that very well could have been a ruse, hiding his true agility. His focus shifted between all of them, but he was gradually closing the distance between himself and Sebastian.
"What do you know of dreams and nightmares, little elf?" he grumbled in an even lower voice than he possessed as a man. The speech was crude, and riddled with other sounds, but the fact that this strange being retained this much sentience proved it was even more dangerous than it appeared to be. The monster still had the blood of the villager he had mauled dripping from its maw, and now its own blood vulgarly dripping from its malformed limb. What should have been the smell of wet canine emanating from it in the pouring rain was filled in by an unsettling odor of mold and mercury.

"What of blood and of pain?"

Ozziah struck out at the smaller lycan with the strange bony appendage. It seemed intended to miss, for the tells for this lashing out were easy to read. The power behind it was evident in its ability to crack the cobblestone where he struck. It was only a physical warning when she had strayed too close.

Not pausing for an inevitable retort, Oz shifted his weight and slashed the bone claws at Sebastian as he narrowly avoided a thrust from his spear. As he moved, bits of the darkness fell from his form like some sort of living ink upon a canvas…a blasphemous ooze that rushed to the ground and formed vine-like tendrils that lashed coiled about their master defensively.

Author: Celeste, Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 2:13 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

“I want the moons to stop burning.” She requested Sebastian to learn how to do that. “Two thousand years and there is no answer. All Moon Elves are dead and with them the secret to what ails me.” She put her hands on her tiny hips.

“Try not to hate me dearest little brother of mine. No matter how corrupted you may be.” She outstretched her arms to Oz. “I once had someone come to me. His eyes as red as blood. His voice as good as silk. He told me not to be afraid anymore. He told me it wouldn’t hurt. He waited until the pain wouldn’t stop from the Moon. Then he took my mortality away.” She chuckled a bit as her clothes dropped. “Did you feel your mortality slip away? Do you even know what it felt like, to begin with?” Her red eyes bore into Oz. 

Her nude frame began to shift. It was nowhere as disturbing as Ozziah’s transformation. It was smooth and quick as if she had been doing it forever, and indeed she had. Her form was brilliantly white and the silver shined brightly in the moon’s light. She was tiny compared to him. ”We Moon Elves do not age like you Mazerine. I was fifty when I said goodbye. Lonely. Lonely. Lonely. My love he took my loneliness away and let me loose on a town. I killed them all before I woke up. Lonely no more.” It was brilliant. The way blood could dance in the sky. “I love him. He who tried to honestly save my soul. He crushed it and twisted it with what he did but he did it because he wanted me not to be in pain. Now, on the night the wolves run wild… I hide. Because it burns.”

Her words drifted to Mazerine’s mind. They were lonely still in a way. Celeste flew up into the sky with a leap going towards the flaming wolf. She let out a horrible howl that sounded more like a bloody scream. She wanted to fight and it had been a good long time before she had.

“There once was a man who had a dream… He wanted to be one with the moons. He made the Moon Elves. The poor, poor Moon Elves’… Had to make an offering each year or else they hurt badly because of the moons. When I killed everyone the knowledge of the Moon Elves got lost. What the Elders knew was what I didn’t know. What I didn’t know ended up hurting badly… Even when I stopped being a Moon Elf entirely.” Her words were soft as her words drifted through their minds. She was keeping in control this way. The way the wolf wanted to rip things apart… this was the way things had to be.

“If I don’t talk to you… I’ll lose myself and I might kill everyone. Mazerine, you smell delicious… If I were not to talk and not focus… I would eat you. You smell like a finely cooked roast.” She was not without her reasons for why she was speaking with them about silly things.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 9:26 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Mazerine shot a glare at Celeste as she told her to ‘stand up strong.’ Who was this woman, this elf, to tell her how to handle a situation she had never been in?  As annoyed as she was with the small elf, she knew that she needed to listen to her.  The story of her past, and how young she had been when she had taken all those lives, it stuck with Mazerine.  This elf - this very, very old elf, as it turned out - had experienced far worse than she.  She took strong heed of the words that Celeste bore into her brain with telepathy, nodding stoicly as she listened.

Celeste spoke of shifting, and Mazerine almost panicked again.  Seeing Ozziah shift had been the first shifter she could recall seeing, and she did not much feel like watching that happen again.  

Sebastian looked back at them, and his guess that Ozziah did not want to attack Mazerine or Celeste almost put her at ease, until the sounds of the militia cracked through her ears.  It seemed that even if Sebastian had been correct, that the werebeast only wanted to attack him, he was wrong now.  Sebastian pleaded with Celeste for help, and she could hear his thoughts in her mind, telling her to burn him.

She nearly called out for Sebastian as he was thrown into a barrel, the liquid spraying out everywhere, but she kept her cool, Celeste’s warning in her mind and Sebastians call for help echoing along side it.  The heat in her hands gave way to full blown flame, and she took a few steps towards the were, her hands now alight with flames.  She shook as she approached, but the words managed to escape her lips as easily as she meant for them to.  “Serke naar,” she said, and the fire from her palms shot forth towards Ozziah, intent on engulfing his body in the hottest flames.  

She fell to her knees with the intensity of the heat that emitted from her hands, and its power was so strong that she could feel her own flesh searing beneath the torrents.  She did not falter, however, and the flame continued its course towards the werebeast.  She narrowed her eyes against the harsh light from the fire, unsure if she was successful in hitting her target.

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Sun Oct 9, 2016 9:30 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Distant thunder accompanied the werebeast's roar, and a light rain began to fall. Shouting and the panicked whinnying of horses followed the rallying bell's toll.

Sebastian had drawn his mace, and donned the knuckledusters from his coat. Although clearly touched by madness, and presently in a bestial state, Ozziah, his dear childhood friend, seemed to have the presence of mind to show restraint while he prepared himself…or perhaps it was only hesitation, feeling the magics that Mazerine and Celeste wielded. The creature paced very slowly, while maintaining eye contact. In those mirrors to his own soul's windows, Sebastian could find no trace of what Ozziah used to be. He pushed fond visions of them as boys from his thoughts, and tried to wrap his mind around what Ozziah had implicated.

Vexed, Sebastian desperately tried to reach out to the nameless entity with his mind, trying to confirm anything that was said. It did not speak to him in words, but with pictures and subtle associations, like silent riddles. Normally, any attempt at making contact had an immediate response. The mysterious being was eerily silent to his pleas and inquiries this night. Did it secretly delight in pitting the two of them against each other? If he and Ozziah were only dreams, as was implied, was this only a nightmare that others were being inexorably pulled into? What truly was…real?

Distractions were many, but Sebastian was present enough to have heard Mazerine in his mind, and Celeste speak of some sort of cure.
He looked over his shoulder at the pair. "It…" Sebastian stopped himself and sighed. "Oz, I mean…I think it is only me he wants. If both of you stand down, I don't think he'll attack you. I could be wrong, though. I'm still trying to figure out what all of this means."

Ozziah issued a low growl as Adeluna militia and guardsmen lined the streets on either side of the four of them. They advanced from behind him, and Sebastian immediately put up his hand. "Stay your arms, damnit!" he shouted. "This is no stray problem from Kurayo!"

Too late.


The mob had agitated Oz to action. The creature barreled towards them, and with one mighty sweep of its arm, knocked two men over, and tackled a third, going for his throat.
Sebastian shouted over the vicious mauling and ensuing frenzy to Celeste. "Assist in this, and I'll do whatever you ask!"
He flicked the mechanism on the mace, causing the flange to retract, and the weapon to shift into a heavy pike. Rushing towards Ozziah, he plunged the spear towards his flank. It was narrowly avoided, inflicting a deep gash on the lycan's foreleg. Instead of continuing to be on the defensive, Oz quickly retorted with a powerful swipe that sent Sebastian hurdling into a rum barrel, shattering it, and drenching him with its contents.

Winded, Sebastian cautiously rose, using the pike to get to his feet.
"Fire, Mazerine." He finally answered the elf's erratic mental pleading. "Cleanse this beast with fire."

Author: Celeste, Posted: Fri Oct 7, 2016 8:46 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Celeste’s red eyes landed on Sebastian. “I’ll help you if you help me find the cure.” That was all she left it at. Eventually, he would come to know her curse.

“Stand up strong Mazerine,” Celeste ordered as she held out her hand. “I was 50 when my family, friends, and village threw me to the slave trade. I was 50 when I decided to kill them all. Age is irrelevant. You learn at your own pace but sometimes you need to overcome what fears you or what holds you back. I met a man… and he made me so much more than a tiny little Moon Elf. That was a long time ago as I near farther into my two thousand years of existence now.”

With a hand on her hip, they exited the tavern. The moonlight caused her skin to glow like a lantern. It was like silver veins ran through her flesh as the Moon Elf blood shined brightly up at the moon. The stench of death made her close in on Mazerine who was by far one of the weakest of their party.

”You need to start by not freaking out Young One. This is just a lycan of any other color. Despite the deformities. Despite what we don’t know. If you panic you die. That is the laws of the world.” Celeste snapped at her. ”Stay close and don’t get in the way. If you can do both of those things I can protect you. Use your head and try to see through things for us.” 

She looked up at the moon and smirked lightly. “I don’t need to shift to deal with this… but we shall see if that remains true. Young Moon, he appears to know you and I think it would be wise to start thinking about what all this means. It may hold a clue in how to handle this situation.” 

Looking back at Mazerine. “I wasn’t lying when I said I killed everyone. I’m not a good person by far but I wouldn’t hurt someone unable to fight back or who has done me no wrong. This person, though… I don’t think he is even remotely the in the same category. Stay close.” A spiked chain of magic appeared in her hands. It had an ethereal look to it but from the way she whipped it at the ground hard and how the ground cracked and followed the flicks it was very much real.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Fri Oct 7, 2016 8:32 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Mazerine looked to Sebastian as he offered an explanation as to who her would-be companion was, but it did not make her feel any less uncomfortable with the situation that had unfolded.  She could do nothing but listen as he explained a bit further about what was meant by the Fall, but she chose not to pry - she assumed that she could possibly find out more detail in the future.

When the smaller elf (who looked rather different to Mazerine than any other elves she had met) walked over and spoke to she and Sebastian, Mazerine’s expression showed even more confusion than it already had.  She felt very odd when she reached up and patted her head - all she could do for a moment was look to Sebastian with befuddlement.  As her gaze drifted back to the small elf, she could see that she was not as young as she looked, that there were centuries upon centuries of experience held within her.  

When she spoke of how easily Mazerine’s mind had been overtaken, the elf narrowed her eyes, nearly saying something in defense of herself - she had been tossed out of the embassy and into the world, alone, without so much as a mentor.  It was not easy, for someone as young as she, to figure things out on her own, but she decided against saying anything and let the little elf continue her introduction.  

It was clear that Sebastian knew the strange elf.  “I’ve gotten myself into something, haven’t I?” she said to herself, though the words came out loud enough for both Celeste and Sebastian to hear.  “I’m not even two hundred years old… this is ridiculous,” she said, incredulously.  However, she had told Sebastian she would assist him and he had gotten her out of what could have been a very dangerous situation - she had no excuse not to help him now.

Mazerine had not been prepared for what took place once they moved out to the street.

She could feel her palms growing hot as the man - was it a man? - approached them, the coppery smell of blood accompanying his approach.  She was ready to defend herself, even if she was entirely unsure what it was she would be defending herself from.  

Then, the man spoke.  He addressed Sebastian directly - he clearly knew him.  Mazerine looked to Sebastian and Celeste for some hint as to how she should proceed. She had never been in this type of situation and had no clue what she was going to do.  The words that the strange man spoke were cryptic and foreboding.  

The man, who Sebastian had addressed as Ozziah, circled them, and Mazerine could feel her terror spike.  The heat had not receded from her palms, though she was unsure what good a simple fire spell would do at this point.  When Ozziah struck out and shoved Sebastian away, Mazerine took several defensive steps backwards - and when the man began to change, writhing on all fours, her eyes opened wide with terror.  She had never seen anything were before, let alone watched it shift from man to beast.  

Come on, come on, she thought, wondering if she would be able to get Sebastian to hear her thoughts as he had communicated with her via them before.  I need to know what to do, she said, and shot a glance to Celeste, reaching back to what small schooling in telepathy she had, hoping that both of them would hear her mental plea and instruct her on what was needed.

Author: Ozziah, Posted: Wed Oct 5, 2016 2:58 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

"Who are you, and why have you sent for me? Was it you that killed these people?"


Inquiries directed at a figure down the moonlit Adeluna street caused it to stir. It had been crouching over one of the bloodied corpses, and now stood upright. At this distance, it could be seen that it was but a man, very dark in complexion, and a burly, yet lithe frame, akin to the man's that questioned him. His tattered clothing was covered in the blood of the bodies that littered the cobblestone. The raw stench of death was overpowering, but more so was that of the blood that accompanied it. The acidic, metallic tinge that hung in the air was amplified by the humidity of the night, still present in this coastal city during the changing of the seasons.

The man approached the trio that stood in the street with an unnerving calm, and a wide, toothy grin. He stopped several feet away when Sebastian threatened to draw a weapon. This was close enough to give him hesitation, for now the finer details of the man could be made out.

A spark of recognition. Confusion. Then fear.

Grin deepening with silent mania, the dark man spoke with an ominous, gravelly voice: "What? Did you think you were special in some way, Sebastian? To have lived in a town that doesn't exist…to be touched as you are by the Beyond. Now only to be a mere familiar….to play the whore to its every beck and call…"

The man took a step closer, locking eyes with Sebastian. They were an exact mirror in hue and intensity. It was unmistakable.


Running his bloodied fingers through his curly hair and shaggy mane of a beard, the man continued to advance as Sebastian stepped back hesitantly.
"Ozziah, I-"


The stranger, this Ozziah, interrupted. "Do you ever stop to wonder why no one has ever heard of our little town?" he asked rhetorically. He paced around him now, and also his two female companions with a decidedly predatory demeanor. "I take it you do still have dreams…it's dying, you know…and when it does, we shall follow. Unless it can be reborn. By grooming one of its dreams with something real, to create a shell."

"Oz, what…"

"Oh, you know damned well what I mean," Ozziah snapped, his tone radically changing from manic rambling to intense irritation. His frown vanished as he then laughed. "You know. Even if you're not aware of it yet."

"Oz, you're clearly not well. Please, let's go somewhere and talk. Tell me more about the Grove. You saw what happened, didn't you…?"

Visions. Visions of fire. Of robes and strange symbols. The light of mother's eyes fading as she clutches your hands so tenderly. Tears sting the cuts and abrasions on your face. Mother promised things would be better when we moved here…from…where had the family come from? Why could you not remember? Had we always lived in the Grove?

You watch as Jareth fends off the intruders valiantly, to his last breath. You take comfort in the dog's last embrace, his fur singed and matted with blood. Hands took hold of your shoulders, but you refused to let go…


Ozziah began to shake his head violently, but stopped and shoved Sebastian away when he was touched.

"You…no, it is you that is not well. You can observe, but you cannot, will not see. It is time to let this dream come to an end, Sebastian."
Ozziah clutched at his arms and itched furiously all over his body. Muscles twitched and writhed, and his breathing became raspy and erratic. Ebony fur sprouted out all over the deranged man's body, and his skeleton and flesh warped and twisted. His skull elongated. His limbs grew, with sickening crackling of sinews. The shape of a werebeast gradually took shape, with the addition of antlers sprouting from the wolf's skull, and the coarse fur fuming with a sort of noxious darkness that radiated like small tendrils. The autumnal gaze that the creature shared with Sebastian glowed with a burnt orange hue.

Having lowered on all fours under the strain of the transformation, Ozziah arose, bipedal once more. The strange lycan spanned its arms out and let out a piercing, guttural roar that caused bells to toll in the distance, calling anyone available to arms.

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Tue Oct 4, 2016 5:28 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

"I have a hunch as to who that might have been, but nothing solid," Sebastian mused. "Given the nature of my dealings, I've heard many names in the underground I cannot yet match with faces. Whatever the case, we seem to be mutually aware of each other's existence. No big surprise there. Charming or not, the man is most definitely dangerous."

Considering Mazerine's inquiry as to what the devil implied before he left, Sebastian could offer no more than a shrug. "I only know that when he mentioned the Fall, he was not referring to the season…it…would take a long while to explain. What he could possibly have meant by the moon, I haven't an idea in the slightest, lass."

He was about to commend Mazerine on her conviction, when a small voice interrupted. Sebastian looked this way and that before realizing the stature of the one who spoke and looked down. True to the nature of a full moon, tonight seemed to be filled with things that were not as they seemed. The one who addressed them both appeared to only be a young girl, but anyone with keen senses would be able to tell she was much, much more.
"If I've said it once, I'll say it thrice. I don't know what to expect tonight. Any help you are willing to offer is much appreciated, Celeste."

Author: Celeste, Posted: Sun Oct 2, 2016 2:47 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

The moons were in her favor right now as she eyed the people around her in the tavern. Moon elves were rare and even rarer still was when one gave up their mortality to someone completely different. Her red eyes were gentle as if she had no animosity in her at the moment. Her curved ears were ever listening to the situation around her. The incubus had her attention from the moment he started talking and she began to chuckle softly. That was one of the cheesy tricks in the book but she had done it a few days in her life.

Once the human intervened the smile drifted from her face. She jumped off the stool, and to her it was quite the jump, her body seemed to handle it well enough. She was so small she seemed fragile, like a child. Her hair was long and to the floor almost. The shimmering washed out pink was as captivating as ever.

Celeste came over and looked up at both Sebastian and Mazerine. “You need to guard yourself more. Learn the ways of mind magic before this world eats you little Elf.” She reached up and pat the woman on the head softly. “If you need assistance I can offer it. I may or may not be looking for something pertaining to the moon.” Letting the facade down she held a much older aura to her. “I’m gifted in fighting and surviving something you might need. Little one do what I said and train your mind. To be overtaken so easily is very sad for an elf of your might.” Her words were full of concern. “My name is Celeste my Little Elf and my Little Moon.” She was sure to Mazerine that she looked weird even for an elf. Moon elves were rarely soon but they were spoken of in the elf community from time to time.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 8:21 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

A familiar voice from earlier in the evening caught her ear, and she turned to see Sebastian, the man she had met before Ezra, hurrying towards her.  She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it in an un-obivious manner as his telepathy echoed in her mind.  When he embraced her, she stiffly returned the gesture, leaning slightly into the arm that had been snaked around her.  Something clearly had Sebastian worried for her well being, and she felt her eyes drawing back to Ezra.  Some sort of glance was exchanged between the two men, and she found herself feeling confused, and wanting nothing more than to continue her conversation with Ezra, for some unbeknownst reason.

She felt Ezra’s eyes land on her one last time before he stood and left the tavern, oddly being followed by many other patrons.  He stopped and said something that made little sense to Sebastian.  He seemed to cast some sort of strange illusion magic as he left, his followers becoming quite rowdy as they departed as well.  As soon as Ezra had left the tavern, the compulsion she felt to talk to him had gone and she felt rather strange.  Why had she divulged some of the things she had to him?  She was left mildly bewildered, but drew her mind away from such when Sebastian withdrew his arm from around her and sat down next to her.

“I’m… who was that?” she asked, confusion masking the tone of her voice.  “He was so charming, when he was here - but now that I think about it, he was rather disgusting and inappropriate,” she said, her face mimicking her disgust.  “So, thanks are in order, I suppose,” she said, giving him a slightly embarrassed albeit grateful glance.  “Those things he said to you,” she said, her voice slightly wavering as she was unsure of how Sebastian would respond to her questions.  “What did he mean?  It didn’t make any sense to me, none at all,” she asked.  Her eyes drifted towards the door, where the smoke and embers from Ezra’s departure had dissipated.  She remained silent for a moment, turning sideways on her chair to face him as he spoke to her once more.

“After your assistance just now, there is no way I would not help you,” she said, nodding stoically.  “I might seem like a bit of an out of place misfit, but my magic is nothing to trifle with.  I will face whatever is necessary with strong will,” she said.  She studied his face for a moment, trying to get a read off of him.  He had seemed slightly shaken after the cryptic words that Ezra had spoken to him.  

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 2:00 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Sebastian had left Mazerine in the tavern, thinking her to be safe enough until the morning while he made preparations. These plans changed, however, when he was given surreptitious word that the client that he was to see wished to meet tonight. This was a change that had worked out in the elf's favor, for when he had returned, he saw that a vulture had already swooped in to solicit morsels of regretful decisions from the carcass of her despair. The man that hung about her hid his power well, but he was much more than a mere predator, or manipulator, that much was certain. He had a few ideas about what the man really was, but would not be able to ascertain more details unless he played into whatever games were in mind.

"Love! I've been looking all over for you. Come now, let's get you home," Sebastian spoke loudly as he approached the pair, to interrupt whatever venomous nonsense was being whispered in Mazerine's ear.
"Please trust me," he telepathically urged to her. "Just play along…"

Embracing Mazerine with a well-improvised air of intimate familiarity, Sebastian protectively placed himself between her and her present company, wrapping an arm about her waist.

The young man's sickly topaz-hued eyes flashed dangerously. He and Sebastian shared a knowing glance. The intentions this creature had with the elf were not entirely clear, but it was known that they were less-than-savory. The interloper also seemed to see right through the front that was displayed. He knew they were not together.
Whether out of mutual respect, or a desire to not cause a scene, they both chose not to act on instinct.

"Forgive me," the younger man said with a bow, never breaking eye contact with Sebastian. "Had I known the lady was spoken for, I would not have made any advances."


"No harm done," Sebastian replied tersely.

One more glance was given to Mazerine before the man took his leave. Several of the tavern's patrons, paired together, arose and followed him as he headed for the door. He stopped, and rounded on his heel. "I've had my ears to the ground, you know," he intoned, addressing Sebastian with a sly grin. "One so attuned to the Fall as yourself should take care on nights the moon hangs low in the sky. Nights like this one."
The words were quite cryptic, but Sebastian gleaned most of the meaning immediately. This man knew, at least in part, who and what he was. Before Sebastian could respond, however, the man had gone, leaving a trail of embers and billowing smoke in his wake. Hoots and hollers came from the revelers that followed him out the door.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, Sebastian broke away from Mazerine to take the seat next to her as he had before. "I should hope I don't need to explain why I needed to come between you two," he said with a sidelong glance. "Chalk it up to good timing. I need you sooner than expected, if you're up for the task. As I said before, I don't really know what to expect, so steel yourself. The instructions for rendezvous, as they have been with many of my clients and contacts, are a bit addled and esoteric."

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2016 1:06 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Mazerine frowned as the stranger told her how much she stuck out.  She was well aware of the fact, but that did not change how much his words stung.  His grin seemed out of place, but she took no notice of it, instead listening to the words he continued to speak with great concentration.

“Ezra,” she said slowly, repeating his name.  She actually laughed a bit at his awkward bow, though she quieted as he kissed the back of her hand.  It seemed that his grasp lingered on her wrist for a moment, but for some reason she was not bothered by the touch.  There was something in his eyes that intrigued her, but she could not quite place what it was.  “Mazerine,” she said without hesitation as he asked her name.   She watched him rather intently as he silently ordered a drink from the man behind the bar.

She narrowed her eyebrows as he mentioned his art being abstract, not quite sure of what he was speaking.  She shrugged, instead momentarily turning her attention to the bartender as he returned with Ezra’s drink as well as refilling her own.  “Thank you,” she said softly to the man, her proper upbringing showing through the slight sheen that the drinks had given her.  She turned back to Ezra, opening her mouth to say something, but he beat her to the punch, speaking first.  

His question gave her pause, her cheeks reddening - and not from the drink.  “Um,” she said, unsure how to answer.  “I guess - I don’t?” she said, the red tone of her face deepening.  She had never given the subject of sex much thought, let alone actually participated in anything involving it.  “Have thoughts on it, that is - hard to have thoughts on something you’ve never experienced, isn’t it?” she said, though she clamped a hand over her mouth as she said the final word.  

It was clear that she was embarrassed from her revelation - but why was she so openly revealing such personal information about herself to a stranger?  She questioned herself for but a moment, her eyes locked onto his own as she studied him for a reaction.  She half expected a palm to connect with her face, as would have been the result had she spoken that way in Endopano.

Author: Ezra, Posted: Wed Aug 10, 2016 11:06 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Instinct had proven correct, as it always had. The girl suppressed it well, but Pride was her sin.
"You stick out like a sore thumb. You would even if you were wearing a peasant's garb," Ezra complimented. The demon's grin widened in amusement at the elf's slurred and vulgar speech. Her intoxication would prove useful…but not in the usual predatory way. She had to make the decision to leave here with him. He would not suggest it.
"Indeed, like a thumb that has been pricked, dripping with blood sweet enough to draw pests from all corners of the city."

"I am Ezra," the incubus intoned, performing as much of a courtly bow as he could manage while seated. He took the woman's hand and kissed it. The perfumed scent of her skin and the racing of her pulse that he could feel from her wrist excited him a great deal, but Ezra was a being of patience and restraint. He delighted in the slow torture of palpable tension that could build up from moment to moment. He wondered how much baiting it would take for this one to break. "What is your name?" he inquired. The bar keep gestured silently to him, asking if he would be having anything. Ezra pointed at Mazerine's glass, indicating he would have whatever she was having.

"My type of art is a bit more…abstract, I might say. Intangible at first." Ezra chuckled mysteriously. "Some would call it strange though, yes."
Topaz gaze sweeping the room, he was pleased to see more of his entourage had filtered into the tavern. One would not know they were in a cult by looking at them. They were mere shop keepers, or fishermen….husbands and wives…single maids and lads. All sorts. Ezra bit at his lip thoughtfully, wondering if there were any among them that would fancy Mazerine. With the way things were going though, she seemed interested in he himself, and not simply some sort of wild release from her present situation as most did.

The bar keep came around and gave Ezra a glass filled with whiskey, and refilled Mazerine's. The demon drank deeply of the strong amber liquid, wholly unaffected by the taste and feelings to follow.
"Tell me, what are your thoughts on sex?"
His approach seemed to shift from the subtle to overly direct. His tone did not indicate an interest in her, however. His tone was casual, and he was only following the same line of conversation, her inquiry of his art.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2016 3:11 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

Mazerine enjoyed her pleasant, albeit brief, conversation that she had with Sebastian.  He seemed polite enough, and was so kind as to pay for a room for her for the evening.  She had protested, but inevitably accepted, and the two made a plan to meet back up in the morning.  With a full cup in front of her and a slightly hazy mind from the liquor she had imbibed, she remained down at the bar for a bit longer, not quite ready to retire for the evening.

A voice spoke to her, drawing her attention away from the bar, but it was not of a familiar tone.  She turned to the voice’s owner, seeing someone she had not noticed earlier- perhaps he had entered when she had been engrossed in conversation with Sebastian.  She took in his appearance, and found it quite appealing - something about the carefree way he was dressed, or perhaps the definition of the muscles exposed from his open shirt, whatever it was drew her in, and she could not immediately look away from him.  She parted her lips to speak a response to his words, but found herself at a momentary loss for words.

The man sat beside her and she eyed him with heavy interest as he pushed his hair out of his face, his eyes fixated on her.  A devious smile crossed his lips and she found herself smiling as well.  She found herself touching her wrists and her throat as he mentioned them and their lack of accessory, a tint coming to her pale cheeks.  She still said nothing, though she did not pull her eyes away from his.  When he turned away from her to order a drink, she felt momentarily puzzled, before addressing him.  “What do you mean, I do not belong?” she asked.  Her words were not filled with feelings of insult, but rather curiosity.  Other than her pointed ears and perhaps the clothing she wore, she had no status symbols upon her that would give away her heritage.  

Mazerine leaned a bit towards his direction, continuing to speak.  “You’re not wrong, you know,” she said, the liquor she had consumed loosening her tongue.  “I do not belong here.  I belong in an elegant inn, with fine linens, and a bar with plush chairs,” she said, her words almost unnoticeably slurred from the drink.  “And I do - I should have silver and gold ‘round my wrists and throat,” she said, her tone proud.  “But instead I’m here, in this shit hole,” she said, the profanity sounding odd rolling off her tongue as it was not something she normally used.  

She grew quiet for a moment, her eyes on him.  “Who are you, anyway?  And what kind of artist notices things like that?” she asked.  “Are you a painter?  Did you come to paint a portrait of the Queen?” she asked, as the Queen was most certainly at court currently.  She had tried to get council with the royal, but had been unsuccessful.  “Or are you here for that strange sculpting competition down by the docks?” she asked, finding herself sincerely interested in the newcomer.

Author: Ezra, Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2016 10:18 AM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

The splintery, well-worn alder planks of the tavern were coarse and unpleasant beneath his bare feet. No matter; Ezra was not here at the Winking Mermaid to immerse himself in patronage. He was here to immerse himself in the patrons themselves. His dark topaz eyes had become fixated upon a pair seated at the bar as soon as he had entered. Both the elven woman and the strange-eyed man were very appealing, in their own way. It was the elf he was most interested in, however. The one who had introduced himself as Sebastian would have been an amusing claim. Ezra liked to think he had a good sense of people by first impressions, and that one would require his full attention. Lots of whittling down of character. Too much resistance, with one as grounded as he.

Mazerine, on the other hand…

He listened in to their conversation, easily blending in with the evening throng. He learned scant details of the many types of clientele this Sebastian visited. Mostly those seeking rare works of the written word. Not surprisingly, such clients tended to be of varying extremes of eccentric. The elf was from Endapano. This did not surprise the demon. What was curious was the fact that she was of fallen status, as a diplomat of sorts. Wounded pride…yes….he might be able exploit that. Ezra made his move when Sebastian left her company, with promises of finding her in the morning, after putting a room for her on tab.


"A shame an elegant flower such as yourself has been uprooted…drifting down river to settle here, amongst weeds."
The opening choice of words was utterly and confidently flirtatious, but the overall tone was neutral. It was very subtle, but nefarious magicks played around every word, giving a little tug here…a little caress there to the woman's psyche as she heard Ezra's voice. He very well could attempt to exert his will upon her…but where was the fun in that? His approach was far more insidious. Like a drink that tasted far better than the ones she was consuming, and got you drunk before you realize what has happened to your condition.

Approaching the bar, Ezra sat beside the elf. He was wearing the garb a halfling might wear, but had longer limbs, and more refined features to go with it. His shirt was open, showing off immaculately smooth skin, and a frame chiseled from granite. His pant cuffs were rolled up, as a boy's might be, when he was to go fishing down at a creek. He wore no shoes.

Ezra pushed aside a lock of his dark brown hair and observed Mazerine, the side of his mouth curling up with mischievous mirth. "Your wrists…your neck…so delicate, and looking to be lacking in a finery they are accustomed to. That they most certainly deserve to have. "
Again, his approach was very direct, to test the waters. The intensity of his gaze seemed to hold the same occult caress of his voice.
"Forgive me," Ezra said with a good-natured chuckle. "I am an…artist, of sorts. I have an eye for what does not belong in a picture."

As the two of them spoke, others that had entered behind Ezra chatted up people in the tavern and either left with them, or went away to the rooms. Despite coming on strong, Ezra ordered his own drink, leaving off with that line to all but ignore the elven woman after sharing his observation, but remained near.

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 1:21 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

A male voice caught Mazerine off guard.  At first, she was unsure if the man whom the voice belonged to was addressing her, as when she looked towards him his gaze was not directed at her.  She glanced around, realizing that the two of them were practically the only ones actually seated at the bar, it was quite obvious that his words were, in fact, meant for her.  She found herself wondering how long he had been seated there - she did not recall seeing him when she had approached the barkeep earlier.  Mazerine gave no response to his words at first, instead lifting the stone tumbler to her lips and taking another drink, before setting it down and holding it much in the same fashion she had been previously.  

As he held out his hand and introduced himself, she hesitated for a moment.  Humans in the area were not always overly receptives towards elves, especially one who seemed of high social standing… but this man did not seem to have an air of disgust about him.  After a moment, she leaned over and placed her hand in his own, shaking it lightly.  “Mazerine Alaudriel,” she responded, withdrawing her hand quickly.  His friendliness seemed out of place to her, especially in this setting.  From her experiences in the time since she had essentially been stranded in Adeluna, she had not known any men to be friendly without expecting something else.  So far, no indication had been given of such, but she was slow to let her guard down.

Moments later, a book was slid in her direction, a few silver coins atop the page.  Sebastian, as he had introduced himself, asked her if she could translate a specific elvish phrase listed.  She narrowed her eyes a bit and looked at him for a moment.  She pused the coins off the page, back towards Sebastian, but pulled the book towards herself.  Glancing down at the page, she let out a soft laugh.  “Le nathlam hí,” she said, it being clear that Elvish was her native tongue.  “It means ‘You are welcome here,’” she said, pushing the tome back towards Sebastian.  “No idiom, just a different dialect than most humans understand,” she said, though her pale cheeks reddened at her comment, realizing that it could have been taken in a much ruder context than it was meant to.  “I apologize, until I came to Adeluna, my interactions with humans were nearly non-existent,” she said.  

Mazerine blinked her eyes as Sebastian as he spoke of the barkeep, having never actually known the man’s name.  A look of realization came over her as he indicated who this ‘Karl’ was, and she remained silent for a few moments as he commented on the drink she had been given not being effective at solving her problems.  She gave a sigh, and turned to face Sebastian, releasing her hands from around the cup.

“I’m an ambassador from Endopano,” she said, deciding that there was no reason not to share the information, no matter how little she did know the party she was sharing it with.  “I was sent on an assignment - my first assignment, actually - to work with a company of Northmen that had been camped outside of the city walls,” she said.  She paused, and reached for the tumbler, taking a drink of the harsh liquid.  She made a bit of a face, and continued speaking.  “The negotiations fell through, and the Northmen decided to move their camp elsewhere.  I was supposed to be living off the coin they would be paying me, as their liaison, but…” she trailed off.  “Needless to say, I was never paid, and all correspondence I have been sending to Endopano has gone unanswered.  I’m running out of coin… I’ve been reduced to pawning my jewelry to get by,” she said, laughing with an air of embarrassment.   “No one wants to hire me… And I can’t seem to figure out why.  I’m intelligent and well-educated.  I assume it has to do with the fact that I am not human,” she added, the tension she felt towards the specific race apparent in her voice once more. 

Mazerine could feel the eyes of the men situated around the room on her, but she paid no mind - she had spent a few evenings sitting in the same place she now sat and had grown to ignore it quite easily.   She eyed Sebastian with an air of caution, however, as he moved closer to her.  She looked quite taken aback at his comment.  “Excuse me?  I don’t know what impression I have given you, but you are mistaken if you think I am some tavern wench who can be purchased,” she said.  With what little dignity she still held, she pushed her chair back and got to her feet with every intention of leaving, giving pause only when Sebastian spoke up once more.

Her own cheeks reddened as she realised that she had misunderstood his comment, just as he had spoken with an incorrect tone.  “Well.  Forgive me for assuming, but with the company kept in an establishment such as this, you cannot blame me for taking your comment in such a manner,” she said, returning to her seat.  She listened to him, intrigued.  After he finished his explanation, she was silent for some time.  “I’m a fairly skilled mage,” she said, quietly, after some time had passed.  “And I’ve got excellent communication skills,” she said.  “Working for the high ambassador will give you that,” she said, giving him a smile - one much warmer than her demeanor had given off previously.  She grabbed her tumbler and took another drink, draining the vessel’s contents.  “What needs diplomacy?” she asked, her curiosity piqued at the prospect of making some coin.  Mazerine felt a mild reservation at the thought of trusting a human she had just met, but this Sebastian seemed to be a bit more well mannered than most of the humans she had come across in Adeluna.  Deciding not to let her predetermined opinion of humans get the better of the situation, she resigned to at least give it a chance.  She signaled for the barkeep - who she now knew as Karl - to refill her beverage, and awaited an explanation from her new acquaintance.

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Mon Jun 27, 2016 8:51 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

When his personality was not filling an entire room, Sebastian's lesser-known quiet nature allowed him to easily fade into the background of life - to sit back and play the observer. The elven maiden that had hung about the tavern had caught his eye since she had entered. It was not her beauty, however. It was only her circumstances. It was written all over her face and demeanor. Her attire denoted a status of some measure, but here she was, amongst the common folk, drowning her sorrows.

Sebastian was on errands for clients, as he always was; though, he currently decided to seek some relaxation in Adeluna before heading to Egjora. He strove to be diplomatic with all those he did dealings with, but there were some that made it more difficult to maintain this face than others. He needed time to gather his thoughts, and reinforce his constitution with calm. He leaned his chair against a support beam, feet upon the back of a second chair as he read. He absently twirled his hair around his index as his attention gradually became more divided between the text and the lady.

Having watched the woman for some time over the top of his book, Sebastian at last decided to casually approach the bar, a few seats down from her. Despite the weight of his boots, his steps made nary a sound upon the wooden floor.
"If you're not a drinker, I would take care in imbibing too much of that, lass," he said off-handedly, without looking in her direction just yet. "You're liable to come to such a state where the vultures will swoop in, hungry words and hands caressing where they are unwanted."

Glancing at her with a mirthful gleam in his autumn eyes, Sebastian held out his hand to her. "Sebastian Black," he said, and turned to rummage through his large jacket pockets. Withdrawing a handful of silver, he placed it upon the book he had been reading, and inched it across the bar towards the elf, fingering at a sentence halfway down the page. "Pence for your thoughts? Normally, linguistics are no trouble. Even in context with common though, I cannot grasp the meaning of the Elvish phrase…just there. Is it some sort idiom with a double meaning?" The book had the pleasant scent of age and tender care, and Sebastian himself shared this smell, as well as the heady, spicy aroma of the herbal blend he smoked.
Looking away, Sebastian gathered his thoughts a bit. He did not want her to get the wrong impression. He was not attempting to flirt in a roundabout way. He only wanted to help for the sake of helping. As was part of his beliefs, what goes around, comes around.


"Karl means well," Sebastian mused with a smile, looking at the tumbler she held to like it was a blessed rock after escaping a sinking ship at sea. "The barkeep," he clarified. "You won't find brighter days at the bottom of a glass, though. Just have a little faith. If you don't mind my asking, how did you come to be here, in such a sorry state?"

As dusk turned to night, the usual crowd of the Mermaid had begun to filter in. Mostly sailors, already pre-drunk upon their respective vessel's stores of spiced rum. Witnessing more than a few leers in the woman's direction, and more than a few whispers in his own, Sebastian closed the gap between them, seating himself next to her.

"If you're looking to make some coin, I might have a thing or two you can do for me," Sebastian offered. His cheeks flushed a bit as he paused there. He was very much aware that he often had a terrible penchant in tone and word choice to come off as incredibly suggestive without meaning to do so. "Not like that, I promise…I'm in the trade of rare books and the like, you see. Occasionally, I'm called on for more preternatural affairs, such as mediumship. I'm not sure what you can do just yet, but I often need assistance in…how do I put this…public relations? You seem like someone who is accustomed to speaking with diplomacy in mind."

Author: Mazerine, Posted: Wed Jun 22, 2016 3:42 PM, Post Subject: Unlucky [P][R]

The sun sat low in the sky, indicative that the night was about to descend on Adeluna.  Mazerine let out a sigh, rubbing at her left wrist. Moments ago, she had exited the shop of a blacksmith, where she had sold her bracelet for a bit of silver to help her get by.  Since the company of Northmen she had been assigned to act as a liaison to had left Adeluna for another region, she had not heard a single word from the embassy in Endopano.  No couriers had been sent with more silver to help her make her way back, as she was supposed to have been getting paid by the Northmen.  What silver she had brought with her and accumulated in her short time working with the troops had dwindled quickly, especially when she had been forced to find shelter at a local tavern.  The bracelet had been given to her by the high ambassador of Endopano - Eramriel.  It was crafted from pure silver and decorated with emeralds and diamonds.  It had fetched her a fair amount of silver - enough to secure herself a room for another week with enough leftover to pay for food and drink.  The wrist on which she had worn the piece felt empty and naked, as though she were missing something.

She had, of course, attempted to find work in the city - but it seemed as though many people wanted little to do with junior ambassador from the elven city of Endopano.  Her people had not necessarily been held in the highest regard - and her opinion of most humans seemed to be starting to match the opinion humans had of her.  Her experiences had not been overly great - the majority of folks who chose to speak with her in the city seemed to women of lower class attempting to lure a ‘pretty young thing’ like her to work in one of the seedy brothels that speckled the lower class areas of the city, or lecherous men who smelled vaguely of ale left in the sun for a few days.

The Winking Mermaid had been the only tavern in Adeluna with any rooms left, and she had begrudgingly secured one for an extended stay.  The barkeeps were polite enough, and seemed to understand that she prefered to be left alone, avoiding conversation with her.  But this day, she had finally decided it was time for her to attempt something different. If she was to have any chance of making it back to Endopano, she was going to have to swallow her pride and perhaps take a job that she felt was below her.

Mazerine made her way back to the Mermaid, pushing through the door. It was early enough in the evening that the rowdy crowd had not quite arrived yet, which allowed her ample time for what she was planning.  She slowly walked to the bar, smoothing down the emerald-hued dress that she wore.  The garment was a bit fancier than was the norm for peasants in Adeluna, but nothing overly complicated so as to cause her to stand out - that was taken care of by the points of her ears emerging beneath her chocolate brown hair, cascading down her shoulders in waves. 

When she approached the bar, the barkeep addressed her.  “Maz,” he said with a bit of a nod.  “Need one?” he asked, nodding his head towards a wine bottle not too far from him.  She shook her head, clearing her throat a bit.

“Er, no, not tonight,” she said. She gave him a bit of a smile, which he returned.  “I was actually wondering if you might be able to give me a job,” she asked, blatantly asking without skirting the issue.  He looked at her blankly for a moment, before she continued speaking.  “I’m a bit pressed for coin at the moment,” she said, her cheeks reddening a bit.  “I could make a great tavern maid,” she said, feeling her dignity pour out as she uttered the final words.

The barkeep frowned at her.  “I’m sorry, but we just ain’t in the state ter be hirin’ anyone else right now,” he said.  “I’ll keep ya in mind, though,” he added.  His dismay seemed palpable, and it was obvious that the man actually felt bad for her.  She frowned a bit, feeling downtrodden.  The barkeep she spoke with had been one of the few humans who hadn’t disrespected or insulted her (which may have been a result of her attitude towards humans in general).  

“Alright,” she said, with a bit of a sigh.  Mazerine pulled the stool in front of her out and hoisted herself up onto it, the folds of her dress spilling out on either side.  “I suppose I had better take a glass, then,” she said, in reference to the wine.  He smiled at her, and walked away, returning a moment later with something that was most definitely not a wine bottle. 

“You need this, not wine,” he said.  He poured a bit of the liquid - a light amber in color - into a stone tumbler and handed it to her.  She took a sip, and immediately regretted the burning feeling in her throat.

“It’s awful,” she said, with a mixture of a laugh and a cough.

“It is,” he responded.  “But it’ll make ya forget about yer problems, ‘least for the night,” he said, with a smile.  She returned the smile and fished in her pouch for a few of the remaining silver coins she had, tossing them down on the counter.  The barkeep grabbed them and nodded at her in thanks, walking away.

Mazerine wrapped both of her hands around the stone of the cup in front of her, willing herself to take another drink.  As she did, she could feel the warmth beginning in the pit of her stomach - she had never been much of a drinker.  She set the cup back down, her eyes cast towards the smooth surface of the bar in front of her, contemplating what she could possibly do to replenish her coin - and if it was even worth trying to get back to Endopano.